


Birling

by EASchechter



Series: Off the Main Sequence [2]
Category: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-20
Updated: 2013-03-04
Packaged: 2017-11-29 23:36:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/692828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EASchechter/pseuds/EASchechter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Birling Day once more, and MJN is without a steward. Livvy steps in to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Livvy liked watching Martin get ready for work. On the mornings when he was due to fly, she would sit on the bed and watch him as he got dressed, putting on each piece of his uniform with an eye for precision that bordered on the near obsessive.

"If you had the time, I'd take each piece off of you, just as slowly," she said, picking his pillow up and hugging it to her stomach.

He glanced over his shoulder and grinned. "If I had the time, I'd let you. How do you feel this morning?"

"Better. I think the morning sickness has finally passed." Livvy smiled and tossed the pillow aside, looking down at herself.

"You're starting to show."

"Only a little. And only because you know to look," Livvy said. She looked up and smiled. "How long will you be gone?"

"I'll be back tonight," Martin answered as he turned back to the mirror to straighten his tie. "Unless the storm that's been threatening Munich hits. In which case, tomorrow."

"I'll miss you."

He smiled at her in the mirror. "I'll miss you, too, darling."

Livvy was about to get off the bed and show him just how much she'd miss him when the phone rang. She reached out and picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

"Livvy? It's Carolyn. Have I missed Martin?"

"He's right here. Hold on, I'll put you on speaker." She touched a button and held the phone towards Martin.

"Carolyn?" Martin asked. "Is something wrong? Tell me he canceled."

"No, but we may have to cancel. Arthur is in hospital."

"What?" Martin gasped. "What happened?"

Carolyn gave a long suffering sigh. "A new variation on surprising rice, I think. Either that, or he's picked up something. No matter which, he's not flying today."

"And you should stay with him," Martin said, nodding. "We need a steward, though. Is there anyone we can call?"

"Can I do it?" Livvy asked. "Carolyn?"

"Not with Birling!" Martin said quickly. "The man.. he's a complete ass."

"You have met my father, haven't you?" Livvy asked drily.

"Martin, it's not as if we have much of a choice. If you're feeling up to the flight, Livvy?"

"I'm fine, Carolyn. I'll just need a uniform of some kind."

"Yes, yes, of course. I... Martin? Any ideas?"

"Ah... no. Not a one. Let me think..." Martin paced back and forth for a moment. "Arthur's uniform. Black trousers, black vest, red shirt, red cravat..."

"So, if I wear a black skirt, a red blouse, a red scarf, and a vest, I'll look as if I was in uniform?" Livvy asked.

"My dear girl, you are utterly brilliant," Carolyn said. "And I owe you. Thank you. I'll have to call Douglas now. He'll need to pick Mister Birling up--"

"I'll handle it, Carolyn," Martin interrupted. "You go see to Arthur."

"Are you very sure, Martin?"

"Yes. Go on. We'll be fine."

"If you say so. Do try not to get him drunk again, Martin?"

"I learned that lesson, Carolyn. Go on. We need to get ready." Martin sighed as Livvy hung up the phone. "Darling, are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure. And he can't possibly be more of an ass than Sherlock at his worst. Now, let me shower and get dressed. How are we handling picking him up?"

"I was going to ask Edmund to do it, actually."

"Good idea. Would you pick out clothes for me before you call Douglas?"

"Yes, ma'am."

#

They reached the airfield just as Douglas was getting out of his car. He came over to them and looked at Livvy. "Are you sure you're up for this, Liv?"

"I'm fine," she answered. She stepped back and held her arms out. "Do I look the part?"

Douglas looked at her, then glanced at Martin. "May I?"

"You should be asking her," Martin pointed out.

"No, no. You're the husband. I ask you. Then I ask her," Douglas answered. "You're still new at this. You'll learn. May I?"

"If she says yes."

"It's fine, Douglas," Livvy said. "What do I need?"

Instead of answering, Douglas came closer, shifting her scarf so that the knot was under her left ear. He stepped back, frowned, walked around her slowly, then stopped in front of her and slowly reached out to unfasten the top two buttons of Livvy's blouse.

"Better," he said.

"Is that really necessary?" Livvy asked. "That much cleavage?"

"Well, I'll certainly have a better flight," Douglas answered brightly.

"Douglas!" Livvy gasped, then started laughing. "All right. I'll play the game. Do we let him know my whole name? And what should I expect?"

"No. No, do not let him know that you and Martin are married," Douglas answered. "And what to expect? Well... he'll probably make a pass at you. I expect he'll be particularly obnoxious about it. He is at everything else. Martin, you're going to have to ignore it, I'm afraid."

"That isn't going to be easy," Martin said.

"You can do it, Sir Darling," Livvy said. "And I should... what? Ignore it? Play along?"

"Ignore it. It will drive him mad."

"Douglas, if he touches her, I'm going to break both his arms," Martin said coldly.

"If he touches her, I'll hold him down so you can. Now, let's get on board. The checks need to be done before he gets here. May I ask how he is getting here?"

"We've got it covered," Martin answered.


	2. Chapter 2

By the time that they'd showed Livvy where everything was in the galley and gotten the pre-flight checks finished, a sleek black town-car had pulled up next to GERTI. Douglas looked out and laughed.

"When you said that you had things covered, I didn't realize that you meant you'd sent Edmund to pick him up!"

Martin smiled, adjusting his hat. "I promised Carolyn that I would take care of everything. Ah... Liv? Wait here. Let's surprise him. Douglas, shall we?" He led the way down to the tarmac and stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands clasped behind his back, a small smile on his face.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Douglas murmured.

"Absolutely," Martin answered. "He's already off-balance. I intend to keep him that way."

"Barely four months of dealing with the Holmes and you've been completely corrupted," Douglas said with a sigh. "I like it."

Martin's smile broadened, and he stepped forward, towards the older man being escorted to the plane. "Mister Birling, a pleasure to see you again. I trust you had a comfortable drive?"

"Yes. Yes, this was a pleasant surprise," Birling said. He ignored Martin's outstretched hand and looked around. "Where's Carolyn?"

"I'm afraid she won't be joining us today," Douglas said. "Arthur is quite ill, and she's with him at the hospital."

"Oh, my." Birling looked startled. "Will he be all right? I do rather like the little idiot."

"We're not yet certain," Martin answered, echoing Douglas' tones of gloom-and-doom."Hopefully, we'll know more by the time we reach Munich. Thank you, Edmund." He nodded as Edmund appeared from inside GERTI, having delivered Mister Birling's bags.

"Will that be all, Sir?" Edmund asked.

"Yes, I think so. If we're caught in Munich, we'll be back tomorrow morning, and I'll call when I know our ETA. Otherwise, you'll need to be here to take Mister Birling home at nine o'clock."

"Very good, Sir. Have a good flight."

Martin smiled and gestured for Mister Birling to precede him onboard. And almost ran into the man as he stopped dead, halfway up the steps. The reason was obvious -- Livvy stood at the top of the steps. And she'd somehow managed to transform her appearance. Her skirt was shorter, her vest more form fitting. The buttons on her blouse seemed in danger of bursting if she breathed too deeply. And she'd taken her hair down -- a tumble of dark curls the likes of which Martin usually only saw in the bedroom. She looked amazing, and Martin heard a soft rumble of approval from Douglas.

Martin cleared his throat. "And, Mister Birling, if I might introduce our stewardess, Olivia?"

"Oh, you may. You may indeed," Birling answered eagerly. Too eagerly, and Martin started to wonder if he could strangle the man, then drop him out off the plane somewhere over the English Channel. Livvy met his eyes, smiled, then looked at Mister Birling and... simpered. There was no other word for it. She simpered, and Martin bit down on a giggle. 

"A pleasure, Mister Birling," Livvy said. "If I might show you to your seat? Welcome to MJN Air."

"You're new here," Birling said as he finished climbing the stairs. "A most welcome addition, I might add."

"Thank you, sir. I will ask your indulgence, please. This is my first flight. I might not be as... efficient as Arthur."

Birling looking at her, took her hand, and tucked it into his arm. "My dear girl, if you're measuring your performance by what Arthur can do, then you've already outmatched him, simply by being here. Now, show an old man where he's sitting, and do me the pleasure of keeping me company."

"Of course, sir." Without looking over her shoulder, Livvy escorted Mister Birling into the passenger cabin, leaving Martin and Douglas to close up and get settled at the controls.

"If we kill him now, we can dump his body into the Channel. No one would ever know," Douglas whispered.

"Don't tempt me."

#

An hour into the flight, Livvy came in with coffee. Martin glanced up at her and smiled.

"How is he behaving?"

"Surprisingly well, from what you've told me. He does want me to sit with him, and he keeps staring at my cleavage," Livvy answered as she passed him a cup of coffee. "He seems very lonely. Martin, didn't you tell me he was married?"

"He is," Douglas answered.

"Odd. I'm not getting that impression from him. He seems to want to talk, rather a lot."

"Well, if you can keep him out there, it will be a first for Birling Day," Douglas said as he took his own cup. 

"I'll do what I can. Carolyn said something about not getting him drunk? Is that something I should worry about?"

"On the return trip," Douglas answered. "He won't drink now. He's more interested in the match."

"Yes... he already asked me if I'd be interested in going with him. I told him I don't follow rugby, and he offered to teach me."

Martin looked up. "And?"

"And I'm not sure how to answer," Livvy admitted. "You told me not to offend him. Perhaps... you can come up with a reason I have to stay onboard?"

"We'll think of something," Douglas answered. "Never you worry."

"Oh, good. I really am not interested in rugby," Livvy said with a laugh. She leaned down and kissed Martin, then sighed. "Back out. If you need anything, call."

Martin nodded, glancing at the radar. "Douglas, check the weather, will you? I'm not liking the way GERTI is handling."

"Right-o."

"Hello, my good men!"

Martin closed his eyes and sighed. "Mister Birling, I must insist you return to your seat--"

"Insist away, my little man. It's good for your blood pressure."

"Why do you call him little man?" Livvy asked. "He's taller than you."

"Because, my dear, he is a little man. A very little man, in a very little job-- Good Lord!"

GERTI shook violently, and Martin cursed, hearing Livvy gasp and moan behind him. "Everyone all right?" Martin called.

"Yes," Livvy answered, sounding anything but. "Yes, I think so. Martin, what happened?"

"Turbulence. That storm, no doubt. Douglas?"

"Yes. Yes, the leading edge of the storm. It's moving faster than was projected."

Martin nodded, looking over his shoulder. Mister Birling was holding on to Livvy's elbow, his other hand braced on the flight deck door, and Livvy's face was white as paper. "Mister Birling, now I have to insist. Go back to your seat. It isn't safe to have you up and about with this kind of turbulence."

"Quite right, quite right," Birling said absently. "Nor is it safe to have this young lady up and about. Come along, my dear." He escorted Livvy off the flight deck, and the door closed behind them.

"We're halfway there," Douglas said. "Keep going, or turn back?"

"If we turn back, what happens?" Martin asked. "He doesn't pay for the charter, does he?"

"I think he'd refuse, yes."

"We can't do that to Carolyn. We keep on. See if you can find me a way around the worst of it."

"Yes, Captain."

 


	3. Chapter 3

It took them an extra half an hour to reach Munich, and by the time they landed, rain was pelting GERTI's hull. Once they were at a full stop, Martin rested his hands in his lap, closed his eyes, and let out a long breath. Then he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I hate that kind of flying," he muttered.

"Still, it was nicely done," Douglas said quietly.

"Thank you." Martin answered. He turned as the flight deck door opened, smiling when he saw it was Livvy.

"How are you, darling?" he asked softly.

"A little shaky," Livvy answered, just as quietly. "That was... rough."

"I'm sorry," Martin apologized. He got up slowly and looked past Livvy. "Where is he?"

"Washing up. He's asked that we book a room for him tonight. He said he doesn't expect us to fly in this."

"Well. Thank heaven for small miracles. Think we can still get three rooms?" Douglas asked.

"Already done. I texted Anthea, and she'll cancel them for us if the weather clears."

Martin smiled and kissed Livvy's forehead. "You're a treasure."

"Thank you, Sir," she said with a smile. "Oh. There he is. Do we have an umbrella?"

"In the cupboard. You stay, though. I'll walk him to the terminal," Martin said. He turned to Douglas and asked, "Should we stay, do you think? In case the weather does clear and we can go home?"

"It wouldn't hurt. We could have a bite. The restaurants here are quite good."

"Right, then," Martin said with a nod. "You two head for the pilot's lounge. I'll meet you there once I see Mister Birling off." 

#

Livvy sat next to Douglas at a small table, her chin propped on her hand, watching the barnyard dance going on throughout the lounge. All around them, crew-members of various airlines flirted and laughed over coffee and snacks.

"Is it always like this?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," Douglas answered, smiling and turning to greet a pretty stewardess wearing an Air France uniform. She trailed her hand over his shoulder, and he laughed, patting her hand. Livvy watched, amused, and waited until the woman have moved away before speaking again.

"Douglas?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to sleep with her?"

Douglas turned towards her, looking surprised. "Olivia!"

"They all seem to be pairing off. Or making multiples. Those three in the corner there, for example. This is fascinating, really. But are you really going to?" Livvy asked. "I mean, I know you're married."

"Ah, I see. You're wondering if I'm being unfaithful to my wife," Douglas said. He reached into his coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper, passing it to Livvy. "Here."

Livvy looked at him curiously, then unfolded the paper and read the document. "Really?"

"Helena knows exactly what it is like. I've told her everything," Douglas answered. "She's given me very strict instructions, as you see, and I follow them to the letter. Occasionally, she even joins me."

"Joins you?"

"If there is a couple we meet, and know well, that we're both attracted to."

Livvy studied him for a moment, the way he wouldn't look straight at her, the slight color in his face. "I'd no idea."

"No? That's a surprise. I should mark this on my calendar -- I managed to keep a secret from a Holmes," Douglas said drily. 

"Are you still?"

"Yes, but we neither of us could think of how to put it to Martin. Speaking of, there he is."

Livvy folded the page and passed it back to Douglas, looking through the crowd to see Martin coming towards them, holding a paper cup-carrier bearing three coffee cups. Before he reached the table, Livvy counted four separate advances (three women, one man). With each, Martin smiled, shook his head slightly, and kept walking, oblivious to the admiring looks that followed him.

"There we are," he said as he sat down with them and passed out cups. "Tea for you, dear. Douglas, have we heard anything about the weather?" 

"Nothing yet. I assume that the airport staff will come and let us know if they close," Douglas answered. He took a sip of his coffee and smirked. "So, how does it feel to be the object of affection?"

"What?" Martin asked. Then he looked over his shoulder and blushed. "Oh. That. Liv..."

"Don't apologize, darling. I know how wonderful you are. It's time that other people noticed, too." Livvy smiled as the blush crept further down Martin's neck. "Were they at all interesting to you?"

"Them? No." The answer was too fast, Martin's voice too high-pitched. Livvy reached out under the table and ran her foot down his calf, and he smiled slightly.

"Martin..." she said softly.

"Well... all right. Yes. One." Martin looked down at his cup. "I'll tell you later, Liv."

"All right. Would you want to take any of them up on it?"

"Liv!"

"And that's my cue to leave," Douglas announced. "I'll go find out about the weather." He rose, and Livvy moved into his chair, sitting next to Martin.

"I'm serious, darling," Livvy said, her voice low. "If you wanted, I've no objections."

"You... you what?" Martin stared at her, then shook his head. "Darling, could we not talk about this here? Later, in the hotel?"

"Of course." Livvy leaned into Martin, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"So, I've been meaning to ask you," Martin said. "What did you do to your clothes? You didn't look like this when we left the house."

"Safety pins. Lots of safety pins," Livvy answered. "You'll have to help me take them all out."

"Oh. Certainly," Martin answered. Then he laughed, and pitched his voice low. "Are they the little ones that Carolyn keeps in the jar in the galley?"

"Yes. That's why I needed so many."

"Ah. So I'll have to look very closely to find all of them, won't I?"

Livvy giggled, feeling Martin's hand coming to rest on her thigh. "Yes, Sir Darling. You will."


	4. Chapter 4

Douglas returned with the news that Livvy expected -- there would be no flights out of Munich that night. 

"So, how about a bite, then?" he suggested. "There's good Italian here, and a nice Bavarian place."

"What about Birling?" Martin asked.

"The car was waiting for him. He'll be taken right to the hotel," Livvy answered. 

"Good." Martin looked down at his cup, then rose, stretching hard enough that Livvy could hear his shoulders crackling. "I don't know about you, Douglas, but I'm knackered. How about dinner at the hotel?" 

Douglas nodded. "Sounds good to me. Let's find a cab."

"Not necessary," Livvy said. She glanced at her mobile. "The car is waiting."

"Sometimes, I love that you married a Holmes, Martin." 

#

Dinner was quiet, and Livvy found she had no real appetite for the meal she'd ordered. She pushed her food around on her plate, then sighed. 

"I'm too tired."

"You have to eat, Darling," Martin chided gently. Then he sat up straighter. "Hello, Mister Birling!"

"Captain! Lovely hotel. Thank you so much for booking for me."

"Well, you're very welcome, Mister Birling. Have you eaten?" Martin asked. He gestured to the empty chair at the table. "Did the match go off? We haven't heard--"

"Splendid match! Absolutely splendid!" Birling interrupted as he sat down. "Now, let me order you a drink to celebrate! Douglas, do I remember correctly that you don't drink? And for you, my dear?"

"That's correct, sir," Douglas answered at the same moment that Livvy said, "Nothing for me, thank you."

"You don't drink either?"

"If I drink now, I'll be asleep before I get to my room," Livvy answered with a smile. "Thank you for the offer, though."

"Very well, very well. Captain? Do you drink?"

"I shouldn't," Martin said. "Not with an early flight. No sense in taking chances with hangovers. But don't you abstain on our account. Liv, eat that, don't chase it!"

Livvy grinned and ate a bite of spaetzle. "There. Happy, Captain?"

"Delirious," Martin answered, smiling.

"Captain, you shouldn't speak so to a lady," Birling chided. Martin looked at him, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

"You're absolutely right, Mister B. Apologize, Martin," Douglas said, nudging Martin's arm. 

"Yes. Yes, of course. Sorry, Liv. That was uncalled for." Martin winked at Livvy as he turned, and she smiled.

"That's quite all right, Captain." 

"Well, Captain, I hadn't noticed before!" Birling said. He reached out and tapped Martin's left hand. "When did you get married?"

"Ah... six weeks ago, Mister Birling."

"Congratulations! Congratulations!" Birling looked thoughtful. "Martin Crieff... Martin Crieff.... I wonder. Did I... perhaps see something in the society pages?"

"Well, I don't know, sir," Martin answered slowly. "I don't tend to read them myself."

"And why would _your_ wedding be in the society pages?" Birling added. "I must be misremembering. Now, the little wife, is she pretty?"

Martin smiled broadly. "Gorgeous. And, quite frankly, I'm still wondering what she sees in me. I am an extremely lucky man."

"An understandable question to ask. However, you'll go far as a married man with that attitude. Take it from me, Captain. Treat her like a goddess, and you'll live a happy life together." Birling frowned slightly, picking up the drink that had just been delivered and taking a long swallow. 

Livvy licked her lips and looked at Martin. He met her eyes, then nodded before turning back to Mister Birling. "How long, sir?" he asked quietly.

Mister Birling looked startled, then took another sip. "You... how did you know?"

"It's a bit obvious, actually," Martin answered. "I'm sorry I didn't see it before, or I'd have said something sooner."

Birling nodded. "Ah. Well. It's been four months. She... went to bed one night, and never woke the next morning."

"Mister B!" Douglas gasped.

"We are so very sorry," Martin added. 

"Thank you." Birling finished his drink and sighed. "I've lost my appetite, I'm afraid. I'll see you in the morning. What time?"

"Is eight too early?" Martin asked.

"Not at all. Eight o'clock in the lobby." Birling nodded and turned, leaving the restaurant. Once he was gone, Martin reached over and took Livvy's hand.

"That's what you were seeing?" he asked.

She nodded. "I just... I don't do it as well as Papa and Uncle Lock do."

"You do fine, Darling. Are you going to eat any more?"

"No." Livvy set her serviette on the table and stood up. 

"Then we're off. Goodnight, Douglas." He rose and put his arm around Livvy's shoulders, she snuggled into his side and smiled. 

"Goodnight, you two." Douglas smiled and waved as they turned to leave. 

As they walked to the elevator, Livvy looked up at Martin. "Straight to bed, or showers first?"

"Actually," Martin said softly. "I was planning a pin hunt."

#

Martin's idea of a pin hunt involved Livvy standing very still in the middle of the room, her arms held out, while Martin, working with agonizing slowness, carefully removed every stitch of her clothing. When he was finally finished, it was Livvy's turn for revenge, and she did what she'd threatened only that morning, removing each piece of Martin's uniform with the same slow precision with which he had put it on.

They only just made it to the bed on time.

After, laying entwined together, Livvy listened to Martin's heartbeat slow under her ear. "Which one?" she murmured.

"Hm?"

"The four at the airport. You said one interested you. Which?"

Martin snorted, an interesting sound with Livvy's ear pressed against his chest. "You couldn't tell?"

"You treated each of them exactly the same. There was no obvious preference for any of them."

"Good. I've known all of them for some time, and I do like all of them. But..." he took a deep breath. "Jean-Paul."

"Oh. Yes, he was quite attractive."

"And he's fantastically funny, too. You'd like him." Martin trailed his hand down Livvy's back. "You don't mind? You meant it, what you said before?"

"I did. I know you're going to come back to me, no matter where you fly off to. And I trust you." Livvy looked up at him and smiled. "Should I give you written permission, the way Helena did for Douglas?"

"He showed you?" Martin gasped. 

"I asked him if he was cheating on his wife. I like Helena." Livvy resettled her head on Martin's chest. "She likes you."

"Is that why you like her?" Martin asked. Then he went silent for a moment, followed by a simple, soft, "Oh?"

"You're getting better. Yes. Douglas says they were never sure how to approach you. So if you want to forget I told you, go ahead. But if you want to pursue it--"

"Liv, I have you. Why would I want anyone else?"

"You're so sweet," Livvy answered. "Darling, a ring on your hand is not a ring in your nose. If you want, and she's willing, I certainly love you enough to let you both be happy."

"That... is an odd way of looking at things," Martin said after a moment. "May I think on it?"

"Of course. I should get up and hang our clothes." She started to move, only to have Martin's arm tighten around her.

"No. We can steam them in the shower in the morning, and I can press anything that needs pressing."

"Will you show me how?"

"You don't know... of course you don't. Yes, darling, I'll teach you how to press my shirts." 

Livvy was starting to drift off when Martin's voice woke her. "I wonder how long they were married. Douglas never told me."

"Mister Birling and his wife?"

"Yes. Will that be us, do you think? However many years together, until one of us goes?"

"We'll have forever, Sir Darling. I love you."

"I love you, too."


	5. Chapter 5

Eight o'clock the next morning found the MJN crew waiting in the lobby, and no sign of Mister Birling.

"We did say eight, didn't we?" Martin asked, checking his watch again.

"We did. And he agreed, " Douglas answered. "You don't suppose something happened to the old boy, do you?"

"Only one way to find out." Martin frowned. "Liv, how's your German?"

"Passable," Livvy answered. "I'll go ask."

She walked over to the desk, leaving Martin and Douglas alone. Martin watched as she walked away, then looked at Douglas. 

"She... ah... told me--"

"I expected she would. And?"

"And I never thought you looked at me... quite like that."

"Oh, I don't!" Douglas said quickly. "When we do this, it's a trade-off. Helena doesn't do girls, and I don't do boys. Now, Helena thinks you are adorable. She asked if I would find out if you and Liv were amenable, but neither of us could think of how to do it without destroying a friendship I value a great deal."

Martin smiled. "As I value yours. And... honestly, I'm still deciding how I feel about this. So, I'd like some time to give you an answer. Would you tell Helena that I am really quite flattered?"

"Of course. And take your time. This isn't the kind of thing that one rushes in to." Douglas grinned. "Now, which one was it? Jean-Paul? The one who looks like the male model?"

Martin felt the flush creeping up his neck. "Yes. And that's something else I need to think about."

"Deep thoughts for the flight home. Assuming we can leave at any time today, what with our passenger gone missing. Is he in his room, Liv?" Douglas asked as Livy came towards them.

"He checked out half an hour ago. Perhaps the restaurant?"

Martin nodded. "Good idea. Let's see." 

Inside the restaurant, Mister Birling was sitting over the remains of his breakfast. He nodded as they came over. "Is it eight already?"

"Yes, sir."

"I lost track of the time. Have you all eaten? Sit, eat. The plane isn't going anywhere without you."

Martin was about to answer when he heard... something. He turned, and saw Livvy clap her hand over her mouth and turn, nearly running down a waiter as she ran towards the ladies room.

"Good Lord!" Birling gasped. "What happened?"

"I think I know," Martin said quietly. "Excuse me? Ah.. Douglas?"

"Tea and toast?"

"Dry toast. Thanks." Martin hurried off after Livvy, stopping outside the door to the ladies. As worried as he was, he couldn't make himself walk through the door to check on her, and his non-existent German was in no way up to asking a female hotel employee to check on his pregnant wife! He was saved from having to try and find someone who could understand him when Livvy came out. She looked unsurprised to see him.

"Are you all right?" he asked gently. 

"I think so. I thought I was done with the morning sickness." Livvy grimaced. 

"It's all right. I had Douglas order some tea and toast. We'll get you fixed up before we have to leave." Martin pulled her into a hug, rubbing her back. "And once we're home, right to bed with you, so I cam pamper you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

"I'm not sure I can eat, Martin," Livvy said as they walked back towards the restaurant. "I know I need to. I'm just not sure I can."

"You'll try. And I'll see if we can't find something ginger. That always helps."

"Thank you," Livvy murmured. She stepped away from him slightly as they came into view of the table, and Martin heard her groan. "I did that in front of him. He's going to guess--"

"Olivia, are you all right?" Birling called out. He rose and came towards them, putting one arm around Livvy's shoulders and escorting her to the table. "Sit down, my dear. Sit down."

"Thank you. I am so sorry, sir--"

"Nonsense," Birling interrupted, waving away her apology. "Douglas explained. Another newlywed, my dear. And in the family way. Congratulations, indeed."

"Thank you," Livvy answered slowly. Martin looked at Douglas, who shook his head slightly.

"Honestly, though, I cannot imagine why these two wretches are putting you through this. And Carolyn! I'll be having words with her about sending an expectant mother out as stewardess!"

"Mister Birling, it was my idea!" Livvy protested. "She... she introduced my to my husband, you see. When I found out that she needed the help, I volunteered. I thought I was over the morning sickness."

"That flight yesterday probably didn't help at all," Birling said darkly, glaring at Martin, then pointing. "You do better on the way home, Captain!"

"Absolutely," Martin agreed. He sat down next to Livvy and poured a cup of tea for her. "Small sips. See if it helps. If it does, then you can try the toast."

"Amazing. You sound as if you actually know what you're talking about, Captain," Birling said.

"I do," Martin answered without looking up. "My wife is pregnant."

"Well. Must be something in the water." Birling picked up his cup and sipped his coffee, then frowned. "You... oh, what do they say? You knocked her up, Captain? And that's why you got married?"

"What?" Martin squawked. "No! No, and I object to that... to that insinuation!"

"Captain," Livvy murmured softly. He looked at her, then scowled.

"I am deeply in love with my wife, Mister Birling," he said after a moment, fighting to keep his temper under control. "Our marriage is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and, quite frankly, is none of your business. So kindly refrain from commenting on that, or on my wife, or on our child."

"Well, look at you," Birling said with a laugh. "When did you find your spine?"

"Also none of your business."

"Are you sure you don't want to rephrase that, Captain? Are you sure you don't want to apologize?" 

Martin remembered that condescending tone from his first Birling Day. How much he'd hated it then. How much he'd hated himself for caving, just for the chance at some actual money. 

He didn't have to do that any more. "No, Mister Birling. I'm quite sure," he answered, his voice cold.

Birling was silent for a moment, then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "You've changed, Captain. Grown a spine. You're not grovelling any more, and you know what that means for you at the end of this trip."

"And I frankly don't care!"

"And the uniforms. Don't think I haven't noticed the new uniforms, chaps. They're quite dashing... and far more than this poor excuse for an airline can afford--" His voice trailed off, and Martin looked up to see that Birling was staring at him. No, not at him. At his coat. At the small, white-and-blue enameled pin that Liv had given to him shortly after they were married, and that Carolyn insisted he wear when in uniform.

"That... is that the Royal Victorian Order badge?" Birling asked. "What right do you have to wear _that_?"

"Captain _Sir_ Martin Crieff was knighted three months ago, Mister B," Douglas answered smoothly. "What was it again, Martin?"

"'Distinguished, albeit unspecified, personal services to the Crown,'" Livvy answered.

"Unspecified?" Birling sputtered. "What on earth did you do?"

"I'm afraid you don't have that level of clearance, Mister B," Douglas answered, clearly enjoying himself. "Now, Liv, is that toast going to actually stay down?"

"I think so."

"Good. We should head off to the airport, then. Our window is for just before noon, if I remember correctly."

"Right." Martin rose, slipping his hat under his arm and holding his hand out to Livvy. "Let's be off, then."

"You're practically seething," Livvy murmured as they walked out of the restaurant.

"I despise that little man. I'll be glad when this is done," Martin answered. "I just hope he behaves himself the rest of the way home." 

 


	6. Chapter 6

The flight back to London was quiet. Birling, to Livvy's surprise, stayed in his seat, drank very little, and did his level best to ignore her.

"He won't talk to me at all," she said to Martin and Douglas when she brought coffee in. "He's closed off enough that I can't tell if he's angry, or if he's just sulking."

"Does it matter? We'll be on the ground in twenty minutes, and it will all be over until next year," Douglas answered.

"If there is a next year," Martin added. "Douglas, I'm sorry--"

"Don't be. It's not like I really needed the extra money. You get to explain it to Carolyn, though."

Martin sighed. "I know. I will. I'll... I'll think of something."

"We could cover the tips, Martin," Livvy offered. "If that would help? Since it was my fault?"

"Our fault, and yes," Martin answered. "We'll do that. Now go on, love. I'll announce when you need to strap in, but see if you can deduce him."

"I'll see what I can see," Livvy said, squeezing Martin's shoulder. She went back out into the passenger cabin, tidied up some wrappings from the snack that Mister Birling had only picked at, then freshened his drink. He said nothing, and Livvy sat down and studied him. Who was he, really, and why did he act the way he did?

By the time GERTI had touched down, Livvy had a pretty good idea of the why. And Birling had noticed that she was watching him.

"It's quite rude to stare," he snapped.

"I'm curious," Livvy answered. "I'm curious why."

"Why? Why what?"

"Why you demand that people dance to your tune, in return for a slim hope that you might shower money on them," Livvy answered. "Why you make people humiliate themselves for a tip. Granted, from what I understand, they're quite generous tips, but why would you do something like that? You seem very nice, and yet..." Livvy shrugged, cocking her head to one side. "It's not sadism. You're not consistently rude and humiliating. At least, you haven't been around me. I may be a tempering factor in this. You may not want to be seen as being boorish in front of a woman. But I don't think so. You seem to have no issues doing it to Carolyn.

Livvy frowned, tapping her lips with one fingernail. "No. You do it mostly to the men. You want them to grovel. You want that power over them. Response to having had that done to you... oh, yes." Livvy saw Birling's hands shake, the straw-colored alcohol in his glass sloshing around almost to the point of spilling. "Someone has done this to you. Your wife? And.. a male of power. I can only assume that it was her father. You married into money, then? Yes, I see you did. And this was how you were treated. So now, you're taking that personal humiliation out on others, others who remind you of either your tormentors or yourself as a young man, and who are as powerless as you were to stop it. Some sort of... very odd catharsis, I imagine. I just don't see why you enjoy it so much, knowing what it feels like the way you do." GERTI bumped to a stop, and Livvy looked down at her seatbelt, lifting the flap and letting the loose ends fall away. When she looked up again, Mister Birling was standing, staring at her, his face scarlet with anger.

"How dare you!"

#

It was all in the timing. Douglas had opened the flight deck door just in time to hear Mister Birling's raised voice:

"How dare you!"

Martin shoved past Douglas, out into the cabin, stopping in the galley. He saw Birling, standing, close enough to Livvy that she couldn't get up out of her seat. He heard Birling's angry voice, but not the actual words, because Martin's focus was solely on the single, upraised hand...

And the next thing he knew, he had Birling by the front of the shirt, and had shoved the man against the bulkhead. "Don't you ever touch my wife!" Martin growled, his voice almost unrecognizable to his own ears.

Birling, already pale, somehow managed to go even more pale. "Your... your wife?"

"Captain, let him go," Douglas said from behind Martin, his voice low. Martin looked back, saw Douglas standing behind him. Behind Douglas was Livvy, looking shaken.

"You're all right?" Martin asked.

"I'm fine. He never touched me," Livvy answered. "I... think I understand Uncle Lock a little better now, though. Why he gets people so angry--"

"What is going on here?"

At the sound of Carolyn's voice, Martin let go of Mister Birling's shirt and stepped back, watching as the older man sank into a chair.

"Mister Birling decided to get a bit physical with Liv," Douglas said slowly.

"What?!?"

"He was going to hit her," Martin added. He straightened, adjusted his coat, then turned and looked at Carolyn. "Carolyn--"

"Go on. Take Liv home. I'll call later." Carolyn drew herself up and glared at Mister Birling. "Well, I expect you'll be finding yourself a new charter?"

Martin didn't wait to hear the answer. He went to Livvy, put his arm around her shoulders, and led her off, out of GERTI and towards his van.

"Martin?" Livvy murmured as he handed her into the passenger seat. "Thank you."

#

Carolyn didn't call that night, leaving Martin wondering what had happened after he and Livvy had left the airfield, and if he'd still have a job the next morning. He kept his thoughts to himself, though. Or at least, he thought he did.

"You don't have to worry, love," Liv murmured in the darkness of their bedroom. Her cheek was pillowed on his shoulder, her arm draped over his stomach.

"I just... I know I don't need to work for MJN anymore. But--"

"You need to fly. And you love MJN. I do understand that. I don't think Carolyn will do anything drastic. She may talk sternly too you, but I think she's glad of the excuse. The man was vile to her and to all of you. Why does she put up with him?"

"Because he pays. Between what he pays outright for the charter, and the tips, Carolyn doesn't have to worry about money for a good... four months, at least," Martin answered. "Without him... I don't know how she's going to pay the bills."

"Is it really that bad?" Livvy asked. "Do you think... no, she'd never take it."

"Take what?" Martin asked. "Oh. You want... no, she'd never agree. And you couldn't even hired her for it, since we have a plane."

Livvy nodded, her cheek warm against his skin. She went silent, for long enough that Martin thought she'd fallen asleep. Then she spoke again, "Martin?"

"Yes?"

"How does one go about buying an airline?"

#

They talked until late, and the telephone ringing woke Martin far too early the next morning; he stretched and grabbed the bedside receiver before it could wake Livvy. "'Lo?"

"Martin?" Carolyn sounded apologetic. "I'm sorry for calling so early. And I woke you, it sounds like."

"It's fine," Martin said, blinking and trying to wake the rest of the way up. "Is everything all right? I never asked after Arthur yesterday--"

"He's not allowed to eat his own cooking ever again. Another for the very long list of things Arthur is not allowed to do." Carolyn said. She sighed, then cleared her throat. "I called to see if you both could come by later today. Say, two o'clock?"

"Two? Yes, I think so."

"Good. See you then." The line went dead, and Martin frowned at the receiver for a moment before putting it back on the nightstand.

"That was Carolyn?" Livvy asked.

"Yes. And sorry to wake you." Martin rolled over and smiled as Livvy yawned, then leaned down and kissed her. "You're beautiful."

She smiled up at him. "So are you."

He laughed. "You're biased. And blind. But I love you anyway."

"What did she want?"

"Oh. Carolyn wants us to come to the airfield this afternoon. Which, I think, means that she's not going to fire me. She wouldn't do it in front of you."

"Good. So, we don't have to get up?" Livvy grinned.

"No, no, we don't," Martin agreed, shifting so that he had his head propped up on his hand. "Unless you want breakfast?"

"Breakfast was the last thing on my mind."

#

"Martin, isn't that Douglas' car?" Livvy said as Martin pulled the van into a parking spot outside the MJN office.

"Yes. He's here, too?" Martin turned off the van and got out, coming around to open the door for Livvy. "Interesting. Very Maltese Falcon."

"'I called you all here today?' Was that _The Maltese Falcon_?" Livvy asked. She took Martin's arm as they walked towards the office. "I haven't seen it."

"Oh, we have to fix that." Martin knocked, then opened the door. "Anyone home?"

"Come in, Martin," Carolyn answered. "Come in and sit. We have to talk."

Martin stopped just inside the door. "Talk?"

"Oh, stop that. I'm not firing you. As if I could. Come and sit. You're keeping Olivia on her feet."

Martin nodded, waiting until Livvy was sitting before he took a seat next to her. "Hello Douglas. What's all this about, Carolyn?"

"And where's Arthur?" Livvy asked.

"Arthur is at home, with strict orders not to touch anything I haven't prepared for him. And as for what this is all about... you can come out now." She raised her voice, and the washroom door opened. Mister Birling stepped out, looking nervous and uncomfortable.

"Carolyn?" Martin asked slowly. He felt Livvy's hand on his arm, and took a deep breath.

"This was my idea," Birling said. "Because... you were right. You were right, Captain, and I wanted to apologize. To you and to your lovely wife. I was afraid you wouldn't speak to me again, so I asked--"

"He proposed this, yesterday after you left," Douglas interrupted. "After... well, Carolyn did verbally what you were going to do physically. And I have to admit, it was educational to an extreme. "

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Douglas," Carolyn said, looking pleased none-the-less.

"So you had us come down here--" Martin began.

"So that I could apologize," Birling interrupted. "You were right, my dear. About everything. It was... rather uncanny, how right you were. And..."

"My uncle tells me that people often react badly to having their whole lives laid out," Livvy said. "I should have remembered that."

"Your uncle?"

"My uncle Sherlock."

"Sherlock Holmes? The detective?" Birling looks shocked. "That... then you're Violet's granddaughter!"

Livvy looked stunned. "Yes. You knew Grandmother?"

"I did. I was... greatly dismayed when I heard the news. It was... at the same time as my wife, and I couldn't attend the funeral." He sat down, took a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his forehead. "You have her eyes. And I've met your father. I should have realized..."

"And would that have made a difference?" Livvy asked. "Because you were truly horrid, Mister Birling."

"Yes. I was. And now I see what I was doing. That was, I think, why I was so... so very angry. To have it pointed out that I was treating you the way that they... that I was treating all of you that way."

"Well, now that we know the emperor has no clothes, what are you going to do about it?" Martin asked sharply. "Because, if it comes right down to it, I will happily pay into MJN's coffers whatever it is that you pay, plus tips, for the privilege of Carolyn never having to put up with that sort of behavior again."

"Well said, Martin," Douglas said. "Tell you what. You take the charter. I'll handle the tips."

Martin looked at his first officer in surprise. "Douglas?"

"Oh, didn't I tell you? Number one got remarried. No more alimony for her."

"Oh, congratulations."

"And you should put that away for Emma's university fund," Carolyn added. "No one is paying anything into MJN's coffers for anything." She pushed a piece of paper across the desk. "Read that."

Martin picked up the piece of paper, angling it so that Livvy could read it as well.

"Oh. Oh, my."

"Am I... am I reading this right?" Martin asked. "Does this actually say... ten thousand pounds?"

"Yes. Yes, it does." Birling nodded. "I will continue to charter with MJN once a year, for the rugby match. That contract sets out the fee, and the penalties for if my behavior slips."

"But--" Martin sputtered. Then he stopped and handed the contract to Douglas.

"That won't hold up in court," Livvy said.

"It isn't meant to. If I slip, if I revert to... to what you've come to expect from me, then you need never fly me again, anywhere. But the annual payments will continue until my death." Birling looked down. "If you choose to accept, that is. I can understand why you would not. And... I cannot understand why you showed me so much sympathy. In Munich, at the restaurant. After everything I'd done--"

"Because Martin is a very big man," Douglas interrupted. "With a very, very big heart."

Martin felt his face warm. "Thank you, Douglas."

"Very well, then," Birling said. He stood up and tucked his handkerchief away. "I'll be off. Do let me know what you decide, will you, Carolyn?"

"Of course. And... thank you, for the apology."

"Yes, thank you." Martin rose from his chair and held out his hand. "Thank you, Mister Birling."

Birling stared at his hand for a moment, then took it, shook it firmly, and left. Martin licked his lips and sat back down.

"Ten thousand pounds? Each? If he insults any of us?" Good Lord..." he said softly. "That... Good Lord."

"Martin? Do we still want to...?"

Martin looked at Livvy, then nodded. "Yes."

"Oh, Lord. You're leaving me," Carolyn breathed.

"No!" Martin protested. "No, I'm not leaving! "Look, you, Arthur, Douglas. MJN, this is my family. I'm not leaving. But I want to help the family."

"So? What are you proposing?" Now Carolyn looked wary.

"Nothing dire, Carolyn. A junior partnership."

"How junior?"

"Forty percent," Livvy answered. "And we would put Martins' puddle-jumper under the MJN aegis."

"Two planes?" Carolyn gasped. "All right, what's the catch?"

"No catch," Martin assured her, leaning forward and resting his arms on the desk. "MJN will still be yours. I'll be a very junior, very silent partner. We'll get the bills paid off, and see what we can't do with an airline with... connections."

"Connections?" Douglas echoed. "Oh. I see."

"The department does a great deal of work, all over the world," Livvy added. "And we need... a certain amount of discretion?"

Carolyn smiled broadly. "I think MJN can arrange that. Martin, are you sure?"

"Liv and I were up far too late last night working out the details. Come for dinner. We'll have Mycroft over, too, and make sure it works for everyone." Martin held his hand out. "Partners?"

Carolyn looked at him, then smiled and took his hand. "Partners."


End file.
